


it's burning your eyes and it's killing your mind

by forcynics



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mind Compulsion, Non-Consensual Relationship, References to Sexual Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-13
Updated: 2011-10-13
Packaged: 2018-05-24 00:50:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6135734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forcynics/pseuds/forcynics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She knows she <i>shouldn't</i>. But it's getting harder to remember what she knows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's burning your eyes and it's killing your mind

She shouldn’t.

That’s the one thing she knows absolutely, the one thought she repeats and repeats and repeats.

She shouldn’t be enticed so easily by dark eyes and crooked smiles that promise _so many things_ and kisses that leave her not only breathless but frighteningly mindless. (Where is she? How did she get here? How long has she been here? Who is—Oh, it’s Damon. Of course it’s Damon. And she remembers that she’s not supposed to think so much; she remembers how irritated he gets when she asks so many questions. But it’s hard to refrain when there’s so little she knows anymore, only one absolute.)

She shouldn’t ignore how her insides knot painfully and her nerves flare like wildfire beneath her skin screaming _danger, danger, danger_ and _keep away, run away, Caroline_. She shouldn’t ignore the unease that creeps its way up her throat, tries to claw out of her until she swallows it back down, and then it just catches there, wraps itself around her inside her everywhere and squeezes, and she feels like she’s shrinking in on herself, like Alice in a bloody Wonderland.

She shouldn’t be so okay with the blood either; with the messy bite-marks she tucks neatly under the fringes of delicate scarves, never as delicate as _her_ ; with the bruises that take a few hours to blossom, uncurling purple and blue petal patterns on her translucent skin; with the scars she finds scattered over her body that leaving her wondering _where did you come from, and why don’t I remember you?_

But most importantly (and she always wants to believe that she actually will remember this one, even when she forgets everything else) she shouldn’t _want_ so desperately, frantically, unashamedly. She shouldn’t crave things, shouldn’t covet, shouldn’t crave and covet _him_ when he does this to her (but she forgets what he does until it happens again – and then she forgets it again). She shouldn’t press kisses to his jaw until she finds his mouth or he finds hers, until he’s smirking into her skin and she can feel the threat of teeth and blood and _then she remembers_ , then the silly empty-mindedness wears off too late when there’s only pain lancing through her and _blood_ , _so much blood,_ yes, her Wonderland is stained scarlet.

She always remembers too late, and that’s when she repeats the warnings to herself, like prayers – _shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t_ , _Caroline_ – and that’s when she thinks that she actually stands a chance of remembering any of it, even when he’s tilting her chin up and forcing her to look him dead-on, and the only thing she can think about is the dark of his eyes, and how his pupils dilate when he tells her that no, silly girl, she won’t remember any of this. And she thinks—no, no, there’s something—she _shouldn’t_ , shouldn’t something, Caroline—

And then he kisses her, almost _chaste_ if it weren’t for the curved hint of a smirk to his mouth, and she closes her eyes, forgets the things she swore she’d remember, forgets swearing them—it rushes away until all she knows is that she _wants_.

She shouldn’t—

But she doesn’t remember what.

 

 

 


End file.
